El Perello discoveries

Yesterday was hot, not a day to venture far, or do anything unnecessary, but this afternoon, I arranged to get out and visit John in El Perello. I drove there early to visit the 'Bona Fe', the church shop first, and explore the area a little more than I've had opportunity to on previous occasions. There was a cool breeze and it wasn't so hot and humid, giving a little more incentive to make good use of my expedition.

I found a road that went up and out of the village with signs to an Ermita. On the way I found a monument to thirteen militiamen of El Perello, who died in battle against Castilian forces in 1640. The monument is a twenty-first century construction and reflects regional pride in Catalunyan identity and the resurgence of independence aspirations. A little further up the road is the Ermita de San Cristofol (St Christopher in Catalan). Its construction was begun in 1885, but not completed until 1976, by which time a completely modern chapel had been built, and a large terrace of trees and picnic tables laid out with views across to the Ebro delta. Such a surprise

I've heard people talking about El Perello Playa, and seen the tourism signposts at the same N340 junction. The beach is down a narrowwinding road 7km from the hill village 140m above sea level. The road passes through beautiful terraces of olive trees, neatly arranged with dry stone boundary walls, and more wonderful views across the Ebro delta. It came as a surprise to go over the brow of a hill and find an extensive modern urbanización, and a hotel/spa complex, near the sea. The beaches are fringed by pine trees, with picnic tables planted in the shade, and an elevated walk way adjacent which is wheelchair friendly for several hundred metres. All very well thought out, kept simple and free from commercial over-exploitation. Another splendid discovery.

I then drove to John's house on a hillside overlooking the sea on the way back from the beach, only to discover he wasn't there. When I phoned him, I discovered that I hadn't absorbed the fact that he was temporarily in a residencia in El Perello itself. Ten minutes later, we were reunited and chatted happily for an hour and a half. On the journey back to Vinaros, I had to resist making my journey longer with a diversion into the delta, having seen quite enough to digest for one day.

Delta revisit surprise

This morning I drove up to El Perello to visit 'Bona Fe' the church shop cum drop in centre, to meet a couple of the volunteers on duty, and catch up with what's been happening up there in the chaplaincy outpost in Catalunya. Afterwards I drove back to Vinaros by way of the Ebre delta. I've been looking forward to this for ages. Last time I was there two years ago, I watched the harvesting of the golden rice fields in early September. 

Two months later in the growing cycle, a large number of those fields are under water, and a select number of them that aren't have old rice plants in them, with green shoots growing out of them. I can't be certain of the reason for this. Either these fields are allowed to lie fallow and plants ploughed in later, or it's a kind of rice that regrows productively after being cut. Just thinking about this made me realise how little I know about agriculture and plant life.

I drove from Camarles to St Jaume de Envieja to cross over the Ebre on the bridge which replaced the old ferry crossings. It was constructed as a four lane dual carriageway, but unusually, the seaward side lanes are pedestrianised with a dozen benches where visitors can stop and picnic, or even subathe while enjoying the panoramic view down river from on high. 

I followed the road down river to the Isla de Buda, an island in the Delta which is part of the nature reserve, and reachable only by a floating bridge. The road continues to the beach. About a kilometre inland, is the Alfacada wildlife observation tower next to a restaurant. I stopped there and took a few photos to compare with those I took back in August two years ago. It's interesting how different the seasonal vegetation colours are.

Then, I set off in southward across the delta, aiming for the village of Deltebre, where I knew I could find a bar or restaurant for a snack lunch. Approaching Els Muntells, I noticed a modern cemetery surrounded by rice fields about half a kilometre from the edge of the village, and stopped to have a look. When I went to set off again, the car failed to start. Dead, outside the cemetery! There was no power, suggesting that the battery was disconnected or that a main fuse had blown. Two years ago the car had failed to start because a battery terminal had worked loose, but there was a new battery now and it was well secured so it seemed unlikely this was the source of the problem.

There was no alternative but to phone Michael and ask for help. Within half an hour he was on his way with a mechanico at his side, using sat-nav to reach a place he'd never been before. There wasn't much the mechanico could do, as an electrical connector in the steering column lock was the source of the problem. It was impossible to arrange a grua (tow truck) this late in the afternoon, so we had to leave the car with a note on the dashboard, to inform the Guardia Civile that the car had not been dumped but broken down waiting to be collected.

The irony in being stuck out in a place surrounded by rice fields, was the lack of wildlife, the odd egret and heron, and a few small birds, but nothing compared to some of the flooded fields I'd passed which had dozens of herons plus egrets large and small and ducks. Still, the sun shone and the wind didn't blow, so the open air wait for rescue wasn't arduous. The afternoon's photos are here.